Untitled  Mystrade in Omega verse
by Karen7
Summary: In a world where Omegas were treated as properties and sexual toys, Gregory Lestrade struggled to make something more out of his life. Years later, he was finally getting somewhere. Then one day, everything fell apart around him.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: AU, Alpha & Omega verse, Non-con/ Dub-con, mention of abortion

AN: This is an AU to the original Alpha & Omega verse. Omegas had always been treated as properties and sexual toys, because they were perceived as mindless sexual creatures that require constant guidance. Many families even saw them as ways to get rich quickly by offering them to suitable Alphas. Once Omega reached breeding age, they went into heat, and they did so once a month from there onwards. The Alpha that managed to impregnate the Omega became his/ her owner. The Omega would be bound to the Alpha, but the bound was only ever one way, unless they enter into marriage together, i.e. the Alpha had the option of marrying someone else. As long as the Alpha cared for the Omega, it was a widely acceptable practice. It was until a new bill being passed and hormone suppressant drugs being made available publicly they were finally given same right as Alphas and Betas. However, prejudice and discrimination was still very much at large.

Chapter One

It all started the day after Commissioner Edward Blair's funeral.

At first it was just small things, like the reports Gregory had submitted went missing. Luckily he had kept soft copies of them on his computer. It was only the matter of reprinting them.

Then he found draws and cabinets in his office being tampered with. Nothing was missing, as far as he was aware, so he didn't report them. The last thing he wanted was to bring attention to himself when he was already in a vulnerable position.

On day four, all of his paperwork from the last 2 weeks was gone, from his desk, from his computer, like they never existed. He pulled an all nighter trying to hit his submission deadline, but he wasn't able to get them all done. He was called into the Chief Superintendent's office later that day.

The Chief Superintendent was very straight forward with Gregory. He told him that now Commissioner Blair was out of the picture, he was not to expect any more special treatment. His condition of employment was that he had to prove himself not being a liability. And those sloppy work were not good way of going about it.

Gregory had nothing to defend himself with, so he stayed quite. Right before he was dismissed. The Chief Superintendent sharply reminded him to take his hormone suppressant consistently. The last thing he wanted was an Omega going into heat at the Yard.

Gregory had to bite inside of his cheek to stop himself from snapping at the man. He had been doing so for the last 23 years – a pill a day for every day of his life. It had become a routine long time ago. He was not going to forget about something so vital. He was an adult, not a child who needed constant reminder.

On day six, Detective Inspector Dimmock was promoted to Chief Inspector. The man was 15 years his junior, and used to be part of his team when he first joined the Yard. Dimmock could not even meet his eyes, being a kind and honest guy he was. Gregory held no grudge and offered his congratulations. Despite holding highest conviction rate, Gregory knew better than to believe he would make it any higher on the rank.

It was close to a miracle that he was actually made a Detective Inspector. A few years ago, there was a campaign of promoting diversity and tolerance. He benefited from it. He had become Met's poster boy. He supposes he should have been content, as he was the only Omega who made it to Detective Inspector in Met's history.

On day eight, he found photos being pined up on his office door. Photos of him engaging in sex with various of man. Photos of him on his knees, giving blow job. Photos of him with wide, dilated pupils, looking completely lost in sexual arousal as he was being pounded into. Photos of him with his legs being held wide apart, so his body could take in two cocks at the same time. Faces of his partners were carefully hidden, so they could not be identified, the only exception being Commissioner Blair's.

He ignored the whispers behind him and calmly took them off. He had them shredded and went on about his job. People had long suspected his relationship with the late Commissioner. He could not have made it this far without protection from high up. This incident merely gave them gave them some more to talk about.

Gregory had never regretted his decision in accepting the offer from Edward Blair years ago. Back then the older man held the position of DCI and he was merely a Constable. It had been a fair trade. The older man sheltered him, and backed him up. His influence stopped most form of abuse and discrimination. In exchange, Gregory offered his body. He was his fuck toy, as well as his resource to bribe and blackmail with.

Some times, Gregory could not get over the sheer irony of his life. He left his home town to escape from a life of confinement, being own and possessed by an Alpha. And yet, he found himself submitting to another in order to survive.

Gregory never really enjoyed those sexual encounters, not at a psychological level. Physically, he had found enjoyment in them, which he could not deny. After all, he was an Omega, who was naturally drawn to sex. Apart from being the perfect broodmare, it was another trait that made Omegas highly appealing sexually, and extremely valuable. Still he was grateful to the man. He had kept his words to him over the years, never tried to breed and bound with him. And he was kind enough to keep him around even when Gregory was too old to hold much physical appeal.

He knew they were just the beginning. There were more to common. He had been shielded for too long that he had forgotten how vulnerable he really was.

Gregory couldn't help but being a little distracted while having a fortnightly dinner with Mycroft Holmes in a secluded location. He had too many things in his mind. Strangely the man didn't seem to be annoyed. The younger man only quietly studied him with those icy grey eyes.

He didn't force Gregory to talk. He never did. For that Gregory was thankful. The only thing Mycroft had forced him to do was to agree to come and meet him on a fortnightly basis to discuss Sherlock and his latest troubles. Gregory was completely at his own discretion of what to share and what to withheld from the very beginning.

Over time, Gregory had come to enjoy these meetings, even if he didn't exactly look forward to them. It was nice to be treated as an equal, a competent adult; as oppose to a creature that needed taming and guidance.

Gregory had never met anyone like Mycroft, who saw him as a person, rather than an Omega. Sherlock had been an exception. The man was so eccentric that he had no sense of social norm. The fact that someone like Mycroft would entrust the safety and sanity of his only brother to him spoke enough about the amount of trust he had on him.

Right before Gregory was about to step into the black car that was to take him home, Mycroft asked him what was troubling him, and whether there was anything he could do to help ease his mind. Gregory thought about the reports, the photos and the gossips, he was really tempted. Not doubt a man like Mycroft could easily smooth things out for him. But people like him didn't just offer things freely as act of kindness. They would always expect something in return. And Gregory doubted he would be able to offer anything of reasonable value. So he only shook his head and said everything was fine.

Mycroft didn't push it. He saw things, but he never judged, at least not openly, unlike Sherlock. Like the times that Gregory came to their meeting with noticeable limp from a rough night with Edward Blair and his friends. Mycroft never asked or commented. He only made sure that he had the most comfortable seat possible and a cup of water with pain killer. He had never over stepped boundaries.

Perhaps it was why Gregory had come to see the man as a friend, or something along that line. Not that he would ever spill all of his secrets at the front of him, or entrust him with his own life. But he had come to like the illusion of equality in his presence.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

On day ten, Gregory was locked out of his own crime scene.

He received a call at home early in the morning. The Chief Superintendent had reassigned one of Dimmock's cases to his team to free the newly appointed DCI up to a triple murder. The Sergeant on guard was a new transfer from another state, and apparently he refused to believe an Omega could have made the rank of DI, even with the aid of his warrant card.

There were sniggers behind him, muffled but still loud enough for Gregory to hear. He understood the meaning behind these games perfectly, he had been subjected to them often enough. But it had been years and years ago. He thought he had won his colleagues' tolerance, if not a certain degree of respect in the last 20 years of his career. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be the case.

Before things could have gone out of hand, it was Dimmock who put his foot down on this ridiculous drama. He had come out to see what the commotion was about. Gregory had never seen him so angry before – angry in a silent way. His glare was enough to silence his entire team. He lifted the police tape for Gregory so he could enter.

They quickly went through the necessary paperwork. Dimmock quietly apologised for his subordinates' inappropriate behaviours, before taking his leaving.

Then out of nowhere Sally showed up with the rest of his team. Gregory wasn't exactly tempted to ask where they were ten minutes ago. After all, he could hardly expect any of them to stand up for him. He knew by working with him, they had already put their own careers at risk.

The murder took place at the back alley of a seedy night club. The victim was a female in early 20s. Her body was dumped in the dumpster. Underneath the highly revealing corset, nearly every inch of skin was covered by bruises, burn marks, and shallow knife wounds. Gregory brushed strands of soft blond hair away from her face, revealing the bashed and swollen features. Despite the level of violence forced on the poor girl before her death, and her massed up make up, it was still very easy to see how beautiful she was – fragile, delicately beautiful, the sort that attracted violent criminals.

Anderson had already started on forensics. The initial examination had been able to determine the cause death as strangulation. They had been able to recover various bodily fluids from her and her clothes. Within a few hours Gregory was provided with the identity of the victim - Sarah Lawrence. Her finger print had a match in the database, as she had been detained previously for underage prostitution.

Despite the level of violence and brutality demonstrated, the case seemed to be quite straight forward. Within two days, his team had been able to determine that on the night of her death, she offered sexual service to one of her drug dealers, who had history of committing sexual and violent crimes. The drug dealer, Ken Brooks denied the allegation, insisted that he was only with Sarah until 9 pm that night, which was 6 hours away from her time of death. His so-called alibi could not be confirmed. Gregory knew they had the right guy. All they needed was for his DNA to match the ones they found in the crime scene to nail him down.

Gregory allowed himself a glass of wine when he got home that night. For the first time since Edward Blair's death he felt a sense of peace and contentment. He loved what he did for living – helping the weak and vulnerable, bringing closure and answers to victims and their families – it was good to know that he was still able to make a difference, even without Edward's support.

He didn't realise he had fallen sleep on his sofa, until he was woken up by the loud banging on his front door. Once he had it open, he was surprised to find a very much drunk Dimmock, who forced his way past him. However, he was not that shocked when the younger man slammed his body against the closed door, and crushed his lips on to his. He smelt of alcohol and arousal.

Dimmock sucked and bite on the hollow of his neck, hard enough to make Gregory wince; while his hands torn open his shirts.

It was plain and obvious what the younger man had wanted, Gregory thought. After all, he had shown him an act of kindness today at the crime scene, and now he wanted repayment.

Gregory was made to turn around, with his pants pulled around his ankles. Fingers were roughly pushed into him, opening him up. The calloused skin rubbed against the highly sensitive wall, Gregory could not help but moaned. His body instinctively started to relax, adjusted to the intrusion. His passage became wet and slick in no time, practically begging for more.

Dimmock groaned, and then he replaced his fingers with his cock. His thrusts were erratic and clumsy. Still, he was able to easily reduce Gregory to a begging mess.

Moments like this, Gregory was no longer a human being, but a sexual creature that was unable to resist any form of stimulation. To be filled like this, to be used for the pleasure of an alpha, to be reduced to nothing more than a sex toy, it had felt right, like he was being put in his rightful place. He felt no shame, no embarrassment. He only knew the need to please and satisfy, to have a cock inside of him. They only crept up to him afterwards.

Warm semen soon flooded his passage, and it was enough to bring Gregory off. Lust soon left his system, and his head cleared. He took in the scent of sex that hung heavily in the air, the wall that had stained with his own release, and the throaty laughter right behind his ear and winced.

He was expected to be called a whore, a slut who couldn't get enough. To be laughed at, mocked at, like what he had always been subjected to.

He had anticipated many things; many things expect for gentle touches that lingered on the skin, and the soft words of "I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The night had just become more and more surreal. Gregory didn't think anything could have surprised him any more. But he was proved wrong, again.

Dimmock soon collapsed into a graceless pile, completed exhausted from excessive drinking and sex. Gregory was too tired to move him, so he left him on the floor in his tiny apartment. He, however, was feeling kind enough to throw a blanket over the unconscious form. After all, he didn't want to be responsible for the death of his new boss.

The man woke up about two hours later, looking surprise and confused. Gregory gently suggested him to leave since he had gotten what he had come for. He couldn't quietly place the look on the younger man's face when Dimmock finally took in his words as well as the state of his own clothes – shock, disbelief, and disgust. Gregory certainly didn't expect him to be on his knees, and begging for his forgiveness.

It was never meant to be like this, Dimmock promised, to force himself on someone he had cared for deeply for many years, to take advantage, to violate, to do the exactly same thing Commissioner Blair had done. He had never wanted to be like that monster. All he ever wanted was to be strong enough, so he could protect the one he had come to love and respect.

Gregory was stunned. He had never expected any of these. Dimmock was in his team for a year, before he asked for a transfer. The Alpha obviously was not comfortable working under an Omega, not to mention its implication on his career. He was resourceful enough to get his way, and Gregory didn't blame him for making this decision. Over the years, their paths had crossed from time to time, the younger man was a little awkward around him, but always polite.

Looking at his face – honest and desperately hopeful, Gregory found him facing a prospect that he hadn't thought about for years and years. Someone who cared about him, who wanted to be there for him – he couldn't remember the last time he longed for these things so badly. Was it when Edward Blair picked him up the street, gave his life a direction, then helped him to turn his dream into a reality? One day he was living on the street, selling himself so he could afford a shelter over his head, some bread in his stomach, and the very expensive hormone suppressant pills that he could not have afford otherwise. No one was willing to take the risk of hiring a young Omega, not to mention one who had no skills or qualifications. The next, he was enrolled in the Police Academy; and later being employed by the Yard.

He thought he had meant something to Edward, he really did. He didn't let go of that silly notion until the night the older man offered him to his superiors. He was asked to strip out of his uniform, a piece by a piece under the scrutinizing eyes of his audiences, before each of them had a go with his mouth. He was on his knees, choking on their cocks and cum, while they talked, laughed, formed friendship and alliances. The next day, Edward told him to see the Superintendent at the time; apparently his service had been highly appraised. Swallowed his shame and anger, Gregory calmly made a deal with him – his corporation for the older man's support. If he was destined to be a pawn in someone else' game, he might as well make something out of it for himself.

Gregory could no longer believe these things, too beautiful, too wonderful to be true. After all, he was an Omega who wasn't in his prime any more, who had lost most of his physical attractiveness. Even if the younger man for some strange reason found him to be fascinating enough, it would not have last. He was tired of the games, sick of facing uncertainties so he turned the younger man down, as gently as he could.

Dimmock took it better than expected. He only asked for a few hours in Gregory's company, promised that they would never speak of it after that night. So they sat on the sofa, leaned against each other, shared a pot of coffee. Dimmock had his arm around Gregory's shoulder the whole time. Other than that he demanded anything more.

His eyes traced over every inch of Gregory with burning hunger, like he was trying to imprint every detail into his brain. The simple physical closeness, the warmth of another human being, the gentle yet firm touches – they were so new for Gregory. It was strange, yet oddly alluring. He almost felt an old yearning stirring somewhere deep inside himself, in a place that he no longer admitted existing.

But it all went away when first ray of sun hit his window. Dimmock was back to his old self by the time he left, polite and distant. And Gregory, he was just glad the younger man was gone, so he could escape from debating whether he had made the right decision.

He didn't have much time to contemplate that strange night, because he soon received a message from one of his informants who had just spotted Sherlock Holmes meeting up with a drug dealer.

Gregory was glad he went to Sherlock's apartment straight away. He had the landlord opened the door with his badge when his knocks were not answered. Then he found the young man lying on the floor of his bedroom, barely breathing.

Weak pulse, sallow skin, pupils so small that could be barely seen. Gregory knew an overdosed junkie when he saw one. He had plenty of experience dealing with this crowd back when he was still in the Clubs & Vice Unit. He knew the young man was bored out of his mind. After all he had been bombarded by 30 or more text messages a day for the last a few days, all of which harassed him for cases. Unfortunately Gregory had far too many things on his own plate already to deal with such tantrum. But the thought that Sherlock had resorted back to his old method of entertainment hadn't crossed his mind. After all, the young man had been clean for more than a year as far as he knew.

Gregory straightaway dialled the direct line to Mycroft Holmes. Within 10 minutes, they were both taken to the nearest hospital.

Mycroft almost seemed to his usual self when he arrived at the hospital – the bespoke 3 piece suits, the umbrella that never left his hand. If it wasn't for his quicken steps no one would know his brother just had a close call. Upon seeing unconscious form on the hospital bed, cracks formed on his usually perfect facade. There was undeniable gentleness on his typically unreadable face, amongst frustration and anxiety, as the politician held tightly onto the hand of his younger brother. For a moment, the Ice Man was almost as transparent as an open book. It was such a private moment that Gregory felt the need to excuse himself, claiming he needed a cigarette.

It was nearly impossible to imagine someone as guarded as Mycroft Holmes would allow a moment of weakness to be witness by others. Gregory found himself amazed by what he had just observed. Not that he wasn't aware that the older Holmes's protectiveness of his brother, judging by the amount of resources he had dedicated in controlling his life. But there had been times that he couldn't help but wonder whether it was out of a sense of obligation or just something he kept on doing out of habit. But clearly inside that cold and distant facade, Mycroft Holmes was as human being as any other person on the Earth, capable of feelings and emotions even though he had some very unusual way of showing his affections. And the fact that he had a brother who refused to grow out of his teenager rebellion phase only added more tension to their already strained relationship.

Moments later, Gregory found Mycroft made his way to his side, his perfect facade back on its place. Gregory offered his pack of cigarette to him. It was nothing fancy, but Mycroft took it gratefully.

Gregory barely had a chance to mutter his apology for not keeping a closer tap on Sherlock; before Mycroft cut him off with a shake of head. He told Gregory that he didn't owe them anything, and he was already extremely thankful that he had been looking out for his troubled brother.

Gregory was a little relieved to hear these words. After all, the last thing he wanted was to be held in grudge by someone like Mycroft Holmes, even though he still blame himself for overlooking the problematic detective inspector despite the mess he was in in the last a few days. He gently suggested for Mycroft to find other ways to ensure the safety and sanity of the detective consultant, as his own hands were quite tight now. He had lost most of his resources and influences with the late Commissioner gone. To which, Mycroft responded with a raised of eye brows. Gregory almost laughed at his own stupidity. Of course people like Mycroft would be aware of such things, he would not need a reminder.

Once again, Mycroft asked him whether there was anything he could do for him. And Gregory declined his offer yet again. Like the last time, the politician didn't push it, only gently reminding him that his direct line was open to him too.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On day fourteen, Gregory was informed of Sergeant Sally Donovan's transfer to DI Gregson's team. He wasn't all that surprised; after all he had seen her ambition and drive to succeed from the very first day they worked together. She had never let her beta status get in her way, and of course, she wasn't going to let his Omega status become an obstacle in her career either. Not that Gregory blamed her. To be honest, he was amazed that she lasted about 5 years in his team.

It wasn't until he had called the Forensic Science Service to follow up on the Sarah Lawrence's murder, only to be told they had received nothing whatsoever he started to suspect that Sally had gone out of her way to ensure her transfer request was taken seriously. There was nothing but his own gut feeling to prove his suspicion, but she was the one who handled the paperwork for all the evidences related to the cases. And now not only the Forensic Science Service denied they ever received such materials, there wasn't even any paperwork trail suggesting those were ever collected or submitted.

And his last attempt to get a confession out of Ken Brooks also failed spectacularly. Somehow the man got wind of the missing evidences, and he pretty much laughed at his face. Ken even had the gut to actually pat him on his shoulder, and told him that at least he didn't have to explain to Sarah's parents how an incompetent Omega had lost all the evidences required to solve their daughter's murder.

Gregory sat in his own office, letting himself be surrounded by the photos of the victim. As the sole survivor of horrible car accident that killed her entire family, Sarah was in and out of the grasp of child protection services and foster homes ever since the age of 10. She chose to make a living out on the street over endless abuse and molestation soon after her 15th birthday, ironically trading one evil over another.

Gregory forced himself to look at each of the photos on his table, no matter how sick they made him feel – he made himself taking in every inch of her skin that was marred by fist, knife, robes, whip, and burning cigarettes. It had not been an easy death. Sarah was made to suffer for hours before she was finally put out of her misery, as stated in her post mortem report.

He could almost hear her desperate pleadings to her killer in the final hours of her life, her once sweet voice hoarse from hours of screaming. He could see her wide, frantic eyes looking straight at him if he closed his eyes long enough, begging him to give her the justice she deserved. Not matter how hard he tried, he could not forget how she was found – being dumped in a dumpster, like a broken toy that was no longer providing amusement to its owner. There was no evidence of shame or remorse judging by how the killer got rid of her body. It was a cold blooded murder, and he was about to let the murder walk away free.

He was so deep in his own thoughts that he almost didn't see Dimmock walking into his office. The younger man had bought him coffee, and told him they needed to talk. Gregory already knew what the conversation was going to be about. He had run into a dead end on his investigation. Since he didn't have much evidence to charge Ken Brooks, he was to release him. And he had only until 10 am the next day to do so.

By looking at the younger man, Gregory couldn't help but realized if he wasn't the one being assigned to the case Ken Brooks would have gotten the punishment that he very much deserved. So he let Dimmock's empty words of comfort washed over him, because it was exactly his fault that the case had arrived at a dead end.

It only took Gregory 10 minutes to think about all the options that he had, before he dialled the direct line to Mycroft Holmes.

By 8 am the next morning, the head of the Forensic Science Service personally delivered the once missing evidence as well as the forensic reports to Greogry's desk, and apologised profoundly for their mistake.

Gregory informed Ken Brooks of his decision to charge him on first degree murder and aggravated assault soon afterward in person. He took extreme pleasure in watching how that bastard's cocky smile fell as he realized that he was about to spend the rest of his life in a cell. He calmly sat on his chair, while the other man hailed every dirty word in the dictionary at him. His heart was filled with a cold satisfaction, not even Dimmock's heated stares that followed him throughout the day could damp his mood.

That very night, he had tried to show his appreciation for Mycroft's help. However, he had been stopped before he could reach for the younger man's belt. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing that he might have made a terrible mistake in a moment of desperation.

How could he be so stupid, accepting an act of kindness when he had no idea what the other person was after? Had he not learnt his lessons over the years? Of course, sexual pleasure would not have satisfied the politician, not when he could have easily gotten it from elsewhere, from people who were much younger and more attractive.

Gregory forced himself to swallow his anxiety and put on his most alluring facade, promised that he would make it worth his while. He forced himself to not think about what else Mycroft could have wanted from him, because he wasn't sure he could afford to pay his debt in any other way. After all his body was the cheapest, most readily available commodity he had on hand.

And Mycroft just stared him with his polite smile and piercing gaze, silently evaluating him and what he had to offer. Gregory was finally able to let out of the breadth he was unconsciously holding when the younger man finally told him he wanted to see him pleasuring himself instead.

So he did exactly that, making sure he put on a show for the politician. He stripped himself of out his clothes with a cold efficiency of someone who had done so countless times. Awkwardness and shame had long been beaten out of his system. Within a few minutes he was on his hands and knees, his legs were wide apart enough to provide a good view. He briefly teased the sensitive muscles surrounding his anus, forcing his body to relax, before breaching himself with his fingers.

He cleared his mind, simply letting the pleasure to take over. His eyes were closed; it was always easier that way. And he was thankful that he was allowed this. He added more fingers when his passage became sufficiently lubricated. Then he started to fuck himself merciless on them, hit his prostate with every thrust. Soon he was panting and moaning, until it was all too much for him that he cummed from sheer pleasure.

It had taken him a while to get his breadth back. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself staring directly into the blue eyes of Mycroft Holmes, only they were no longer quite guarded or unreadable. There was clearly a cold fury in those eyes, strong enough to burn. Gregory's first instinct was to get away, to protect himself from a beating that he was surely going to get. But he was held in place by the firm and steady hands of the younger man. He found himself being cornered with nowhere to run. And he didn't know what he done wrong, he truly didn't.

For a long time, they simply stared at each other. Finally Mycroft released his hold on him and told him that he was free to leave.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

For a moment, Gregory looked absolutely broken. There was no light in his chocolate brown eyes. He had just failed to carry out one task he had trusted himself to always excel on. The sense of dread filled him, completely over took him, until all he could think of what a failure he had become.

Too old, unattractive, no longer good enough to fuck… the dark voice inside his head scolded him in that malicious tone that he had become so accustomed to hearing, the same voice that appeared in his nightmares time and time again.

He swallowed the lump in this throat, as well as the bitter laughter that was about to escape from him. No, he wasn't going to let it happen. It was one task he had always been good at, and he was going to do it right.

So he grabbed onto Mycroft's suit before he could move away from him, and pressed his lips onto his.

Mycroft felt cold and distant, and Gregory had not felt so clumsy and awkward for a very long time. Yet he persisted, silently praying for Mycroft to give in, while he sucked on those unresponsive lips with all of the enthusiasm that he could master. His arms curled around the younger man's neck, holding onto him tightly, practically reducing their physical distance to zero. He knew he still reeked of arousal, and Mycroft was under its direct exposure. Despite not being in heat, it should still strong enough to influence an Alpha.

And he could not be more right. With an almost inaudible sign, the stiffness that he hated so much fell apart. Mycroft finally yielded to him. He took control of the situation by forcing Gregory's mouth open, so he could explore very inch inside. And Gregory welcomed it.

When he was back on his hand and knees, Gregory made sure that his face was well hidden from the politician's view. Instead, he ensured that all of his best features were laid out in the plain sight – the beautifully toned torsos, long lean legs, and the graceful curve of his buttocks. His own fingers preyed open his already slick hole, exposing it shamelessly for the younger man to see. He knew he was the perfect image of debauchery and temptation. And he also knew it had worked on Mycroft, judging by the quickened breadths behind him and thickening of Alpha pheromone in the room.

Gregory could hear the brief shuffle of clothes, and a pack of condom being torn open. Then he was penetrated from behind. His brain was slowly taken over by feeling of a hard cock breaching him, the rhythm of thrusts and the hands that held him in his place. The Omega in him gladly submitted, he was getting delirious with lust and needs – just a bit more, a bit harder…

He allowed himself to beg, because everyone liked it, everyone got off on it. He begged for his greedy hole to be filled; he was a slut for cocks; he wanted to be put in his place, a dirty whore to be used as pleased; and he wanted it hard, so hard that he would still feel it for days after…

But he was stopped by fingers that roughly forced into this mouth and the angry grunt that ordered him to shut up. So he did.

He pushed back, fucking himself on the cock ruthlessly, clinching his muscles, doing everything that would make it pleasurable for Mycroft. But the politician's movement was fairly mechanical and detached. It was almost like he was merely there to indulge Gregory and his childish needs. Every thrust was intended to hit Gregory's prostate, and their aims were dead on. Gregory was driven crazy by the ecstasy, and yet he was being drowned in sense of desperation. His Omega instinct ate him from the inside, because he knew he had failed to pleasure the Alpha yet again.

The penis was withdrawn from his body as soon as Gregory was brought to climax for the second time that night. He looked at Mycroft in disbelief. The man was already back to his Ice Man persona despite holding his own still erect cock in his hand, calmly getting himself off.

Incompetent… broken… over used… just look at yourself… Gregory firmly blocked out that mocking tone from his head.

Please, allow me. Gregory said, while looking straight into the emotionless eyes of Mycroft Holmes. His body instinctively shivered under that intense gaze. Every fibre in his being screamed for him to submit, to back off. Mycroft was the most powerful Alpha he had ever encountered, the mere thought of challenging someone like that was laughable. Yet he was too stubborn to back down. He wanted to do it right, he had to.

There was another sign, and then the younger man gave in to his demand for the second time that night.

Gregory used his tongue to trace every inch of that cock, rolling it against the vein and teasing the head and the slit, before taking the length in. He alternated between bobbing his head and sucking, deliberately keeping the depth shallow and amount of friction minimum. Very soon, Gregory found himself being held to place by the fingers that were buried in his hair. His service was obviously not enough for Mycroft. He gladly relaxed his throat, and braced himself, simply letting the politician to fuck his mouth.

Mycroft finally let himself go and did exactly that. The thick length shoved in harder, going down as far as it could, until hitting the back of Gregory's throat brutally and repeatedly. Precum and saliva dripped down his chin, because his mouth was so full that he could not swallow them down. He must have made quite a sight - the hungry slut, the cock whore. But Gregory didn't care, not at that moment, not when everything was finally feeling right.

With a loud groan, the younger man's grip on him tightened. Gregory's abused throat spasm wildly, while his mouth was flooded with cum. Gregory swallowed very drop of it.

No matter how pathetic it might seem to be, he still had pride.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

On day seventeen, Gregory woke up with a strange soreness throughout his body. It took three cup of espressos for him to be coherent enough to go to work. He thought he was about to have a cold, so he swallowed a few pills and thought nothing more of it.

On day eighteen, the soreness lingered on. Persistent headache was the new symptom. To it make it worse he seemed to gain attention whenever he went. Eyes followed him, judging him, scrutinising him. He had received much more attention from the Sarah Lawrence case. It wasn't unfamiliar. After all, he had been subjected to them all these years because of his association with late Commissioner Edward Blair. But it didn't mean it was something he could ever get accustom to.

It was also the day that he found out about Dimmock's engagement. If he were to be honest with himself, he was a bit hurt watching the younger man kissing a beautiful Beta, only a few meters away from his office. He turned away before the moment was interrupted, but he didn't miss the triumphant look that shone in those warm hazelnut coloured eyes when she looked at him, and the engagement ring on her finger.

She was the daughter of the Chief Superintendent, as Gregory found out later. It was a good match for Dimmock. Somehow, he couldn't help but to think about the promises that Dimmock had made that night. And he laughed at himself for the times that he actually questioned his own decisions. He had made the right choice, after all.

He ran into the Dimmock in the coffee room later. He offered his congratulations to his boss and got out of the room before the younger man had a chance to speak.

He had very little memory of the next day. The morning was filled with paper works. Everything went downhill after lunch. Gregory felt his body was burning up. He thought it was just the cold getting worse. It hadn't even occurred to him that he had gone into his first heat in the last 30 years until he found himself facing 3 pairs of predatory eyes, eyes that were full of hunger, and dark needs. He was pushed against the wall by 3 Alphas, each trying to get a piece of him. His memory was pretty much a haze from that point afterwards. His brain completely shut down as his Omega primal instinct took over him.

All he could feel was a consuming urge, a desperate need that was taking over very single cell of his body. A feeling that he hadn't experienced after his first heat, thanks to the hormone suppressant drug. It was unfamiliar and raw. He should have panicked, but he didn't. Because all he cared about at that moment was fingers that marked him, cocks that fucked him, cum that filled him. He was intoxicated, delirious with ecstasy.

He came again and again, until his own penis was raw from excessive fondling, until it could give nothing more. Still, his insatiable body wanted more. He went out his way to please his partners, so he could experience those glorious feelings again and again, until there was no ounce of humanity left in him.

When he was finally able to gather some coherent thought, he was riding the cock of the Chief Superintendent. His knees gave out when he realised exactly what he was doing. He collapsed on top of the older man, which earned him a few hard slaps on his buttocks. But he was simply too tired to go on. His mind was a completely mess as he tried to understand what exactly he had done. The older man grunted in annoyance, as he flipped Gregory to his back so he could continue to take his pleasure in his prone body. He ended up cuming all over Gregory's face with a laud groan, making another sticky mess on the body that was already covered with semen and sweat.

Those men went out of his office once their urges were satiated, and the Chief Superintendent was the last one to leave. He pulled out of Gregory as soon as the Omega pheromone lost its influence on him. Gregory could not look at the face of the angry Alpha as the older man got himself dressed. He could barely hear the cold words that were telling him that he was being suspended until further notice, as he felt his world fell apart around him.

He lied on the floor of his office for hours, feeling nauseous and empty. He was covered in evidences of what he had just done. He was so sticky and dirty. Yet his well abused body was too raw and too sore to even lift a finger, let along attempting to clean himself up.

He had no idea how long he had been in that position, and he was too tired and too shocked to even care. It wasn't until he was been helped to sit up, he came to feel the overwhelm shame and need to cover himself up. He shrank away from the hands that were touching him, no matter how gentle and kind they felt. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, like the mindless, out of control animal he had become. But those hands refused to let him go. They held on to him tightly, like their owner didn't care how dirty he was. Gentle words eventually calmed him down, he was finally coherent enough to recognise the familiar face of Dimmock.

So he allowed himself being helped to stand up, but he was refused to let the younger man dress him. He was not so useless that he could not even accomplish such simple task. But to his own shame, his hands shook so badly that it took him a good 5 minutes to do up just one button on his shirt. The sheer frustration finally let him give in, he allowed the younger man did the rest for him. He didn't put up a fight when Dimmock offered to give him a ride him, because he was so desperate to get out of the Yard, and he no longer trust himself to do anything right.

But he drew a line at that point. He refused to let Dimmock into his apartment. He was a lost case already, and he wasn't going to take Dimmock down with him. The younger man had the potential to go far, and he shouldn't destroy it by associating with people like him.

He mechanically showered, letting water washing away the evidence of the past few hours. But no matter how hard he scrubbed his own skin, he could not wash away the fear that was about to consume him alive. The thought of being impregnated, being bound to an Alpha, being at complete mercy of another made him shiver uncontrollably.

It took him a while to remember the day that his office was ransacked. His pills were possibly being tampered back then. How could he be so stupid that he didn't even consider this possibility? He laughed at himself until he broke into sobs.

That night, he was caught in his own memories, things that he had tried to put behind him. In his nightmare, a familiar voice promised him a life of serving men on his knees. The malicious tone told him repeatedly that it was all he was good for. Those words painted him a life that he was destined to have - completely naked saved for a collar so he could be chained to the bed post, the dining table or any other place depending on time of the day; never set a foot outside of his owner's household; never see the child that he was suppose to give birth to. And in his dream, he was never given the chance to run away.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The clinic was exactly as Gregory had remembered, ran down and shady. Despite this, it held attraction to a certain crowd due to its completely anonymous - all cash transactions, no record, no ID required. The florescent lights flickered very few minutes. Their dull rays gave people a ghost like appearances. Not that anyone gave a damn about it. They were there for their own reasons, to bury their own demons.

Nothing was different from his last visit 23 years ago. The equipments were old and worn, just like everything else there. The medical staffs were cold and indifferent. Back then, he didn't care about any of it, because he was too anxious, dreading the possibility of being found and taken back. And now, he was just simply too drained.

He didn't have a choice. The child he carried in him was the sole link to the Alpha he had run away from, the only evidence that proved him as his property. And he didn't want that. He thought about 2 years of hell that man had put him through before his first heat, about all the dark promises that he had made to him, all he wanted was to get away. He could not bare the thought of being at complete mercy of that cruel bastard for the rest of his life.

He had always been considered the weird one in his home town. An Omega, who wanted to be more than just a fuck toy or a broodmare – a laughable idea to most people. And no amount of beating could eradicate his insolence. Despite his flaws, he was still being perceived as a valuable asset simply because he was the only Omega in his generation in that small country town. And it certainly helped that he was pleasing to the eyes. His family, on the edge of financial doom, sold him to most powerful family there when he was 13 years old.

And Gregory hated the arrangement, hated the man who marked him as his property. And above all else, he hated himself, because he knew in his very core he was exactly what he didn't want to be. And his owner loved nothing more than proving to him that he enjoyed everything that was done to him, again and again, until he was shaking mess of desire and despair.

He knew legally he was his own person, he had just as many rights as the Alphas and Betas, thanks to the Equal Right Legislation. However, the bound that connected an Omega to the Alpha who impregnated him/ her after child birth was outside the bound of any law. The resulting physical and psychological dependence took away any freedom of the Omega.

So very desperate to get out of a life of slavery, Gregory took the first opportunity to get away after his first heat, and went through with the abortion. For a while he didn't even have a chance to grieve for the life that he had chose to end, to question his own decision, because less than 24 hours later he was on his knees servicing his first client. After all, he had borrowed money for the procedure from his pimps and there were repayments to be made, and he needed the hormone suppressant drugs that would protect him from his heat cycles.

And 23 years later, he again found himself on the examination table, letting machines preying him open and took away another part of him.

He couldn't help but contemplating about his life. A job that was about to be taken away from him; a few thousand pounds in his saving account that would not sustain him long in a city like London; a small apartment that was still under mortgage, which he would not afford to support once he lost his sole source of income. If he was an Alpha or a Beta, his law enforcement background would open up opportunities in security industries. Unfortunately as an Omega, he would be perceived as a risk rather than investment especially given his recent track record. And he really was too old to consider the alternative employment, he laughed at himself bitterly.

Maybe it was the cold realization that despite everything he did, he was not really much better off than he was than 23 years ago finally broke him. He didn't even put up a fight when he was asked to step into a familiar black sedan parked outside the clinic, even though the last thing he wanted to do today was to face the older Holmes after their last disastrous encounter.

Gregory was asked to showered and dressed in pyjama made with the softest cotton that he had ever felt after he was taken to one of Mycroft Holmes' properties. He knew he looked like a mess, and he was almost grateful when the younger man made such requests. Anything was better than the scrutinising gaze that was trailing over every inch of him, taking in his dishevelled appearance – from the badly wrinkled clothes with alcohol stains, his blood shot eyes and unshaved face. He could hardly be indignant about disapproval that was radiating off the politician. He had drunk himself to oblivion in the last 5 days and to his body still ached after his surgery despite the sedative he was given.

He had expected many scenarios, things that Mycroft would have wanted to do, but he certainly didn't expect to be tucked into bed by the politician.

The Iceman, in his meticulously pressed Savile Row suits, was expressionless, completely unreadable. But the hand caressed Gregory's face had a gentleness that he was not used to. Mycroft's voice was soft and soothing. He promised to Gregory that he would make everything right for him. And Gregory, in his desperation believed every single of these words.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Gregory woke up feeling disoriented. He had no idea where he was. He was warm and his head comfortably blank. He felt safe, and it was an incredible feeling. It took him a while to work out why – his hand holding onto another's tightly, like it was the only thing left in the world. And Mycroft Holmes let him, for some reason.

The Ice Man was soundly asleep in his bespoke suits, which was no longer wrinkle free. It could not have been comfortable, yet all lines on his face seemed to have smoothed out, making him looked years younger. Gregory took in the ginger hair, pale skin, and small patches of freckles that disappeared behind the collar. For a brief moment, strange warmth surged in Gregory's heart, and he fell back to sleep with a sense contentment.

When he woke up the second time, Mycroft Holmes was nowhere in sight. Gregory contemplated for a few seconds, before dragging himself out of the bed. It took him a few minutes to find the kitchen, and to his surprise, instead of Mycroft, he came face to face with his PA.

Anthea, in her expensive suits, and a smile that didn't quite reach her brown eyes, beckoned him to have a seat. Gregory complied. As if reading his confusion, she told him that Mr Holmes had been called away for an urgent matter and he had asked her to pass on his apology.

She asked him whether he would like a cup of coffee. Gregory nodded his head. She moved around in that spacious kitchen, going through cupboards and draws with familiarity and ease that only came with time and closeness with its owner. The coffee was black with cream and no sugar. She seemed to know exactly how he liked it, and it unnerved him.

And she certainly knew more about him than just how he took his coffee. She proved his suspicion – most likely she had access to his file or something. She knew about his real name, his birth place, his streetwalking days, his history at the Met, and his countless past sexual partners. But she did confession there were things she simply didn't know or understand, like how someone as influential as Mycroft Holmes had come to be interested in Gregory when he could have anyone if he desired. Regardless, in their line of work, people all had their own ways to relieve their stress, to indulge themselves from time to time. It was very much acceptable, as long as things were perfectly under control.

Her perfectly manicured fingers tightened around his jaw, her dark eyes met his. "Make him happy or else." And then she was gone.

It wasn't the first time Gregory had met Anthea, it certainly wasn't the first time that he had pondered how a highly capable Alpha like her allowed herself to take up a supporting role, fading into the background. But at that moment he came to a startling realization – she cared for her boss greatly, and he had no doubt that Mycroft reciprocated such feeling.

Relationship between 2 Alphas were not unheard of, but they didn't tend to fare well due to clash of strong personalities and incompatible needs. And mostly like it was where he came in – to fulfil certain desires of the politician, the ones that Anthea could not satisfy.

It all made perfect sense now. And he could certainly use it to his advantage, he told himself, with a great sense of relief. For some reason there was a tingle of bitterness deep side of him, which he firmly ignored.

Gregory wasn't surprised that Mycroft asked for sex that night. Well, he didn't exactly do it in words, but it was quite obvious judging from the way he kissed him and how his erection pressed against his thigh. Gregory responded, rocking back, kissed him back just as enthusiastically. Soon they were pressed against each other, fully naked. Then it all went down hill from there.

Gregory was still quite sore, struggling to find a position that he could sustain for a reasonable period of time; while the younger man was clearly hesitant, like it wasn't really what he had in mind. Gregory knew it wasn't working out. He had to change his tactic if he wanted to maintain his partner's interest.

"Fist me instead." He whispered.

"What?"

Gregory was almost puzzled by the look of confusion on Mycroft's face, and then he understood it was all part of the game. So he begged, with the most seductive smile that he could manage, asking for anything that the younger man could not do bring himself to inflict on the one he loved.

As he expected, the younger man finally let himself go. The hands on him were no longer gentle and caring. They came with brutal forces, hard enough to leave bruises. Gregory was made to lay on his hands and knees. Cold finger, coated with lube breached him. It was then joined with a second finger, they moved in a scissors like motion, effectively and mercilessly opening him up.

Gregory bit down his own arm to muffle his cries. His passage was still swollen from the procedure, too tender to be subjected to such exploration. But he forced himself to relax, to rock back to those fingers. By the time the third finger was added, he was close a shaking mess, yet he made himself to endure. He asked for more, begged to be fucked harder, said it felt so good.

His body soon reached its limit. And no matter what he did, it refused to accept the fourth finger. No amount of acting could have hid this plain fact from the politician. Then the fingers were withdrawn, and Gregory's heart sunk in despair.

He wasn't going to let his one and only chance slipping through his fingers, so he pleaded, asking the younger man to try again, "… I can take it, just a little bit more lube… please…I only want my job back…"

The he found himself in a bone crushing hug. It only last about a second or so. He was so astound that he thought perhaps it was just something his mind conjured up.

A moment later, the bedroom door slammed, he found himself alone on the bed. He had a chance to make his life right, and he knew he had now ruined it completely.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

On day thirty, Gregory received his dismissal formally. His career came to an end, just like that. It hadn't come as a surprise, but it still stung, because somewhere deep inside his heart he had hoped for some mercy given his track record at work.

He calmly took it and started to reorganise his life. He registered himself in the Job Centre, and called every job listings in newspapers. From security guard and mall patrol, to waiter and kitchen hand, he was turned down coldly and politely every single time. Apparently no one wanted an Omega at their work place when they had other choices. And given the current economic condition, there were plenty of Alphas and Betas looking for work. He did get approached at the outskirt of the red light district. A pimp pushed a card into his hand, told him he had option to earn a living in a safe and secure environment if he was willing to cater to some of the more eccentric needs of their clientele. Gregory firmly declined, but the card was never thrown away. He shoved deep into his drawer, and didn't want to think about the day he might need it.

He could no longer support his mortgage, so he had no choice but to sell his apartment. Due to the poor housing market, he got a lot less than he had hoped for. It took most of his savings for him to finalise the sale as well as cleaned his debt with the bank. By then, he had barely enough money left to cover a few weeks' rent.

Days passed in haze, Gregory was growing more desperate, yet he found he could not put in more effort in his job search. He was being suffocated by his own sense of futility. He moved to his new place in Harlesden, a much smaller apartment in a much cheaper suburb. He allowed himself the luxury of hitting a bar that night as a way of saying goodbye to the life he had known for the last 18 years, Unfortunately he clearly misjudged the content in his wallet, as he shamefully discovered later that he was unable to cover his own bill.

He had been incredibly grateful when a stranger helped him out. He had been turned away again and again in the last month or so that he was thankful for any act of kindness. Maybe it was why he didn't refuse when the said stranger offered to buy him a few more drinks, and didn't say no when the other man had his arm around him and suggest for them to spend a bit more time together.

He allowed himself to be lead to a nearby motel. The kisses and the caresses had felt incredibly in his slightly drunk state. It was probably the first time he had engaged in sex because he wanted to, not because he had to. And it was different, and so very exciting.

He woke up alone on the bed hours later, with a small pile of cash on the bedside table and a note telling him that the room had been paid for. It was then he finally realized it was not so different after all.

He didn't hesitate in taking the money; after all he had earned it. He laughed at himself bitterly. Once a whore, always a whore. What had he expected after all?

When he got home, he dug out the card that he had hidden in his drawer. He was practical and realistic, he knew when to let go of a losing battle.

The brothel was at the seediest part of Harlesden, its entrance well hidden amongst small shops in a small alley. He was given a brief interview and a quick tour of the place. The negotiation barely took 15 minutes. He received his first client that night.

He found himself underneath a nameless man, with an erect cock pounding into him relentless. He told himself repeatedly it really wasn't that bad.

Soon Gregory found himself having regulars and built quite a reputation for himself. There was many man and women, much younger and more attractive then him in this place. Yet, he had managed to hold onto his clients, because he was willing to go further than any of them.

His body was covered with bruises and marks left by hands, whips, paddles, cuffs, robes, nipple clamps, cocks rings and burning cigarettes. He was used to be forced, chocked, used, being preyed open by fingers and toys. He surprised even himself on how quickly he got accustomed to this life. After the first 3 weeks, he was certain that nothing would have caught him out of guard.

Except he was soon to be.

On day eighty, he found his first client for the day being Anthea. Her bespoke suits and Louboutin shoes made her look so incredibly out of place that he nearly laughed. But he was smart enough to keep his month shut. He complied with her command and undressed, exposing his well used body to her scrutinizing gazing.

He felt her fingers tracing over every scar and every bruise, and fought his instinct to recoil from her touches.

The coldness on her face soon melted. The look on her face was almost kind and gentle. She cupped his face between her hands while looking straight into his eyes, and told him he didn't have to do this, he had another choice.

And Gregory believed her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The first time Gregory came without permission, his ex Chief Superintendent Kevin Campbell gave him ten lashes for being presumptuous. He was to count out loud for every one that he was given, and thanked him afterwards. The second time it happened, he received twenty for failing to learn his lesson. He was then made to clean up his own semen from the floor with his tongue. The third time never took place. Not because of the ruthless fingers that enclosed around his erect penis, hard enough to make him passing out from pain, but the threatening voice that told him he was not going to get his hand on another hormone suppressant pill if he enjoyed sex so much. So Gregory endured, tried his hardest to block out hand that breached him, the fingers that played with his prostate ruthlessly. His brain was nothing but a fogging mess as he fought his body's automatic response, and his primal urge as an Omega. He bit down his own arms hard. His own fingers crushed onto his rebellious erection that refused to die down, until pain and pleasure both threatened to tear him apart. When he was finally given the privilege to come, he was nothing but a bundle of over stimulated nerves. Afterwards, when he kissed and sucked on the fingers that had tortured him for hours, he was just glad to it was over for now.

He was to be at Kevin Campbell's beck and call for 3 months, which was Anthea's deal. Apparently Mycroft Holmes owed the Chief Superintendent a small favour, and the man wanted Gregory as repayment.

Despite what he had hoped for, her offer really wasn't at all that different to the job he held back then. If he was to sell himself, he might as make sure it was for the highest possible price. At least it was what he told himself.

The reward was fairly generous - 3 months of his time for a payment large enough to ensure he lived in relative comfort for the rest of his life. It wasn't what he would have wanted, but it was certainly better than what he could secure for himself. So he took the deal.

After his first week, he had learnt to be in the Chief Superintendent's good book. While he wasn't Sherlock Holmes, he wasn't an idiot either. It was nothing but a temporary role that he had to play. He wasn't going to make things harder for himself by letting trivial things like pride getting in the way.

So Gregory made sure he knew about everything there was to know about the man – particularly his preferences. He knew about his preferred angle of fucking his mouth, and how long the older man liked to rubbed the head of his penis against the back of his throat. He was aware how the other man enjoyed having his spent cock cleaned of lube and semen with a tongue, until he was hard enough to fuck his toy again.

Later on, he willing accepted a collar. He made sure he wore a butt plug at all time, so he was always slick and ready to be used.

He didn't even mind being shared amongst Kevin Campbell and his friends. It really wasn't all that different to what he had to do when he was still with the ex Commissioner, Edward Blair. In the private room of an exclusive night club, he was their entertainment for the night. Apparently none of them were important enough to receive much attention from the ex Commissioner during his regime, and now they were making up by enjoying his private whore. It was never just about sex. These Alphas clearly cared more about their once wounded pride and the thrill of power that they now possessed.

Gregory didn't give a damn about any of these. He was paid to play a role for 3 months, and he was determined to do it well. By the time he was allowed to leave, it was wee hours in the morning. His throat was raw from rounds of abuse, and his well used body was barely able to keep itself up. But he was smart enough to avoid any more serious damage yet again.

He knew after a night like this, he would mostly likely be given a day or two off to recover, which he certainly wouldn't mind having. After all, Kevin Campbell liked his toy to be in prime condition.

He was very much looking forward to some sleep. He was startled to find a discreet black sedan silently pulled up on the side walk, effectively blocking his way.

He hadn't expected to see Mycroft Holmes again.

Of course he would be given a pay cheque at the end of his service, but he imagined it could have come from one his agents, if not Anthea. And yet here he was, with his bespoke suits and umbrella. The only thing missing from was his Ice Man demeanour. The inconsistent tapping on the handle of his umbrella, and frown on the usually expressionless face – Gregory had only ever seen the younger man openly displayed his emotions in a handful times, and every one of them had something to do with his precious younger brother.

"Is Sherlock…" He couldn't help himself but blurted out.

"No…"

"Right…" With that being ruled out there was only one reason that why the politician would bother to show up at this hour of the day at this place, "I never knew you would care so much about this…"

"Of course I did!" The younger man practically yelled. Then as if he realised how forceful he was coming across, he took a step back.

"Well, I can assure you that the Chief Superintendent is quite satisfied with my service." Gregory said, hoping it would be the end of this discussion. It had been a long night. And he was very tired. But he was wrong, because the younger man paled considerably upon hearing his words.

The next moment he found himself being held in a bone crushing hug. All he could hear was guilt ridden apologies coming from the younger man.

"I'm so sorry, Gregory… I'm so sorry… I will fix this… I promise."

AN: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. To be honest, I was a little surprised with the amount of responses that I received. A few reviewers raised the question about Mycroft and his sphere of influence. In my mind, while he might be the closest thing to the British Government, he didn't have control over every aspect of the country. He merely had more resource and power at his disposal which he could use to manipulate others. Everyone had their own agendas and goals, what he was good at was persuasion and negotiation. Of course it does not explain what had happened to Gregory. You will get to hear his side of story next chapter. I promise.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Gregory was tired of listening to empty promises, and sweet words that couldn't be kept. After all, there wasn't any reason for someone like Mycroft Holmes to waste his precious time with him. An easy lay - that was all he could ever be to that man. Bur surely, if it was sex that Politian was after it could have been easily arranged. People bound to queue up just to share the politician's bed, after all the man was rich and powerful, a very attractive combination.

The younger man spoke about how sorry he was, how stupid and stubborn that he had been because he couldn't face his own feelings. He said he was in love; to be exact, he was in love with him.

Gregory listened, but he couldn't help but notice how the younger man was gazing intensely at him, and yet he seemed to be looking through him.

He had heard enough of those words, all very much meaningless. He couldn't help but pondered how he got into this position.

"Tell me, how is Sherlock doing?" That successfully stopped the younger man's stuttering.

"He was in rehab. But he is fine now." Mycroft looked away. Gregory knew the look; he had seen it time and time again on people who had committed crimes or wrongful things. It was called guilt.

"But he won't be, if he hadn't found an outlet for his boredom. Tell me how you have managed to get him access to the crimes scenes nowadays."

Mycroft was silent. And Gregory didn't exactly need words to work out things. The younger man's silence had pretty much confirmed his suspicion. The politician had bribed the Chief Superintendent to allow his younger brother to be indulged, and himself was the token of appreciation. Most likely it was arranged without Mycroft's full acknowledgement, hence the guilt. Remorse was s such absurd emotion that drove people to say things they didn't really mean.

So he laughed at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. He told Mycroft there was nothing to be sorry about. After all, he was an adult with sound mind, and he had given his consent for entering this arrangement.

He was only 2 months away from his freedom and financial security. Despite having to satisfy a completely sadistic bastard, the arrangement was at least uncomplicated. He knew enough about mind games, power plays, and exactly what to expect in those situations. They were nothing that he couldn't handle. The last thing he wanted was to believe Mycroft Holmes, and got himself tangled into his guilt complex and whatever past he couldn't quite break away.

So he said no thank you, he was perfectly fine with completing his end of the bargain. He meant every word. Then he simply walked away.

Two days later he was summoned by Kevin Campbell. He was told to blind fold himself and waited on his knees in his client's house. Those requests were nothing unusual, so he did exactly as he was instructed to. He was completely naked saved for the collar and the butt plug.

He wasn't at all that surprised when he realised Kevin had a friend over as well. The hands fondled him was uncertain and inexperienced, while the older man murmured words of encouragements.

"Sir, I'm not sure this is a good idea… " The voice sounded young, timid, and distinctively familiar. Gregory hesitated for a moment, but Kevin's hand tightened painfully on his hair, practically forcing his face onto the youngest man's crotch. Gregory wisely complied; to defy the older man at the presence of his younger subordinate was simply stupid. He fondled with the zipper a few times, before releasing the still flaccid cock and swallowed it whole.

"No… no…. I don't want this… please…"

Upon hearing that trembling tone Gregory almost felt sorry for the younger man - apparently another victim of Kevin's newest power game. He gently rubbed his partner's thigh in soothing circles while telling the younger man he was going to make it so good for him.

Kevin laughed, "My child, I told you our dear Gregory is exactly where he wants to be and doing exactly what he wants to do."

Despite his initial reluctance, the younger man was soon thrusting into Gregory's warm mouth, instinctively seeking the pleasure of having a tongue rubbing against his slowly hardening penis.

Not long after, the younger Alpha was panting and groaning, with his Alpha instincts completely taking over. When Gregory was made to impale himself on his fully hard cock, those hands tightened merciless on his thighs, keeping him in place, while he fucked him hard from underneath.

Kevin laughed, and told Gregory he made such a lovely whore. Two fingers were pushed into the already filled entrance. Gregory hissed in pain. But those same fingers stroked his highly sensitive passage expertly, eliciting pleasuring out of his tensed up body. By the time they reached his prostate, the Omega was groaning and moaning, and pushing himself back onto those ruthless fingers and cock.

"Beg, or you won't get any." Kevin ordered. So Gregory did. He had no idea what nonsense he had babbled, and he didn't care. All he wanted was to please, to be torn into, to be used, to be nothing but slave to his instincts at that moment.

And got exactly what he wanted, when the fingers were withdrew and replaced by another cock. His body ached in protest, and yet it was quickly forgotten as pleasure of taking two penises completely overtook him, taking away any rational thoughts he might have.

The moment Gregory climaxed, the blink fold was pulled away from his face. Harsh light blinded the Omega for a few seconds. As his visual adjusted, Gregory found himself came face to face with Dimmock. His brain went blank, as his eyes took in almost unrecognisable look on Dimmock's face – full of disdain and disgust. Everything inside of his body turned ice cold, suddenly he had lost the ability to breath.

He could clearly see a reflection of himself in Dimmock's eyes – his own lust ridden eyes, face stained by semen and sweat, every inch of his body covered with bruise and marks left by his countless partners. He was so dirty. So dirty that he couldn't even bear to look at himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Gregory could barely be aware of the hurried steps and the slamming of the front door, because all he could see was the sinister smile on Kevin's face.

"You planned all this… why?" Gregory was barely able to spit out those words, his entire body numbed with unfamiliar emotions. Was it shame, or pain? He didn't know.

He had no idea what kind of pathetic state he was in, but it apparently pleased the older man immensely.

"Oh the poor boy, having his heart broken like this. But he needed to see what you really are, a dirty whore who willingly gets on his knees for any man." The older man dragged Gregory toward himself by his collar. A finger by a finger, he forced his entire right hand into the Omega. The still slick passage didn't put up much resistance.

"Did you know that idiot boy was going to break off his engagement with my daughter? My daughter! He was willing to give up his future, his career for a piece of trash like you!" Kevin thrust his hand in and out of Gregory - hard, fast and with every intention to hurt.

Gregory wanted more. He rocked toward those ruthless digits, allowing them to prey him wide open again.

He deserved it, he told himself. He welcomed the pain, because it was it was almost soothing. It was nothing but a sensation. It gave him something to focus on.

"Then I'm glad you did this then. Dimmock is young and foolish." Gregory murmured. And his words earned him a hard punch on his stomach. He instinctive curled into a ball, and heaved uncontrollably.

Funnily, he actually meant every word of it.

Dimmock was extremely naive. The younger man wasn't really in love with him, rather, he was in love with his own idea of him – a victim of society and power abuse. And yet, the younger Alpha couldn't be more wrong. Gregory knew he had always been given choices. He wasn't above taking advantages of situations, to take his fair share of rewards – his career, his freedom, as well as his financial, physical and psychological independence. He might not like what he had to do; still it had always been his own choice to go through with them.

"Talking about foolishness, I was surprised to learn that you had another admirer." Kevin hunched over, observing his pained form with intense curiosity, "Mycroft Holmes came to me, personally, with a request to end our little arrangement. He offered me things in return – a generous payment to an offshore account or a promotion in the next 6 months."

If Gregory was honest with himself, he wasn't all that surprise to hear it. In all the years he had known the politician, the man was nothing but persistent, he didn't stop until he got things done his way.

"Then I can't help but wonder why someone like Mr Holmes would care about a useless whore like you." The older man dragged Gregory up by his throat, so he could look directly into his eyes.

"According to him, he was in love with me." Gregory mumbled between each pained gasps. And those words earned him a slap on his face. It was hard enough to draw blood.

No wonder the older man was irritated with his answer, it sounded incredibly ridiculous even to his own ears. For someone like Mycroft to form any emotional attachment to him was just laughable. Unfortunately, it was the only answer he had ever been given. Not that he was stupid enough to believe it.

Gregory remembered how the younger man had looked at him - the intense gaze that burnt into his very soul, like he was the only one who mattered in the entire world at that moment. But the Omega wasn't being fooled. He could tell how those eyes were actually looking through him, half lost in a distant memory – a long gone past, an unrequited love from his younger days perhaps. Whatever it was, the Omega reminded of him of someone he could still not quite let go.

"Don't you dare of playing me like a fool! You obviously know something that is important enough to have some sort of hold on him. And you will share it with me!" Kevin demanded.

The older man first tried to bribe him with money. Gregory only laughed at him, the mere thought of being able to control the British Government was just plain laughable. Greed truly drove men to insanity.

Being frustrated with lack of progress, the older man resorted to violence next. It started with a whip, then advanced to punches and having his head slammed against the wall repeatedly.

Gregory bit down hard on his lips, refusing to beg. But when a bottle of vodka was opened and all of its content being poured onto his open wound, he could no longer stop himself from screaming. The empty bottle was being casted aside, glass shattered as it hit the floor. The Omega could barely feel a moment of relief, before strong hands closed around his throat, and squeezed with brutal force.

He spasm uncontrollably, as his body instinctive fought for air. In that very moment, it was no longer about interrogating for informtaion, or even eliciting pain. Rush of adrenaline had completely overtaken the older man, and buried any rationality he might possed. Intense disappointment and frustration had further fuelled his anger, there was nothing left but the intention to kill.

Gregory wanted to live, and he knew he would do anything to stay alive – exactly as he had done time and time again in the past. Lack of oxygen had already shut down part of his sensory system. He could barely see anything. And yet his hands extended, desperately searched every inch of the floor within reach. When his fingers enclosed on a shard of glass, he knew he had found his only chance of survival.

He dragged the glass across the other man's torso, used element of surprise and pain to make him let go. Then he flipped the older man off him, and used his entire weight to keep him down on the ground before he had a chance to get up. Both of his hands clutched onto the glass shard tightly, as he drove it into the other man again and again.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

By the time emergency services had arrived on the scene of crime, Gregory was already dressed. He made himself as presentable as possible given the circumstances, and with minimum disruption of the crime scene. He didn't attempt to run or hide after making a call to them. There wasn't much point anyway, as an Omega – especially an unbounded Omega at his age, he was going to stand out like a sore thumb in the crowd no matter what he did.

His arresting officer was DI Gregson, an old colleague who he never really got along with. The Alpha had a look of disbelief on his face while he cuffed him and recited his rights. Gregory nearly laughed; he bet the other man never thought an Omega could have the guts to go after a high ranking police officer.

Gregory accepted basic medical assistance for his wounds and injuries after he was taken into custody. But he refused when they asked him for a family member or next of kin to inform his situation. There wasn't anyone who would give a damn about him or what he had done. He had cut his ties many years ago, when he refused to commit his responsibility to his family as an Omega.

When he was taken to the interrogation room, Gregson and his partner, Sergeant Sally Donovan were waiting for him.

After confirming his name and address, he asked for a Duty Solicitor before answering further questions. He had run enough interrogations himself over the years to know every trick in the book. And Gregson knew it too, so he also spared himself the trouble of playing useless games.

Gregory was soon given a Duty Solicitor – a freshman just out of college, probably working on a case independently for the first time. The young Alpha seemed to be nervous; perhaps being in the same room with a murder did that to the poor soul. Gregory couldn't help but mused.

That was as far as their civility lasted.

Gregson interrogated him on his motive, whether it was a paid assassination under the disguise of self defence. And he wanted name of the person who had ordered him to provide sexual service to the Chief Superintendent, and later ordered the hit.

He pretty much confirmed his own suspicious once they received the court order to go through Gregory's financial history. It took them less than 10 minutes to find a total of £100,000 in Gregory's bank account, coming from an untraceable source.

Gregory knew it was the down payment for the service he was to provide for the Chief Superintendent. But he was smart enough not to mention the name of Mycroft Holmes or Anthea. He knew he still had some slim chance as it is, but if he connected the name Mycroft Holmes to such scandal, he could very well be silenced before his trail.

Another hour later, they found out about his short career in the brothel at Harlesden, as well as his reputation for catering to the more demanding customers. Gregson asked him whether he enjoyed such attention, whether he got off on pain. He didn't even need an answer from Gregory – an Omega got off on sexual stimulations, regardless the kind or the type. It was the biological natural of Omegas, one of the fundamental aspects that separated them from the rest of the population. There was no evidence of abuse in their eyes, only 2 adults with sound mind engaging in more adventurous sex.

A manipulative, cold-blooded murder – that was what Gregson had called him. After all, Kevin Campbell was stabbed, not once or twice, but a total of 26 times. It took malicious intent to commit such crime.

Gregson was a formidable Alpha; his very presence was enough coercive lesser men to submission. It certainly didn't take much effort to have the young lawyer cowered in fear. He had dragged Gregory away from his seat, and pushed him against the wall, when he refused to admit to any of the allegation. He reminded Gregory that being an ex police officer and an Omega was going to make him extremely popular in prison – the resident fuck toy and punch bag being his exact word. It was his last chance to plead guilty, for a shorter sentence and some future protection. But Gregory refused to give a name, even when his legal aid urged him to corporate.

It was as far as Gregson could go without inflicting noticeable bodily harm to Gregory. After smashing the table against the wall as his last ditch of efforts, he stomped out.

With the bad cop being gone, it was then the good cop's turn.

Sally Donavan played the sympathetic card. She acted all understanding and kind, saying she wanted to help his ex colleague in a bad situation. She said she understood why he was angry. It was unfair for him to be dismissed after being assaulted in his own office, after all these years of hard work for the Yard. She promised him a good deal if he pleaded guilty to his crime. She remind him that he would not be able to get away with claim of self defence when he clearly had used more than reasonable force to defend himself. 26 stab wounds meant intention to kill in the eye of the jury.

Gregory knew she was right. He didn't just want to stop from hurting him; he had wanted revenge. Given his law enforcement background, it made him knowingly violating the law.

Kevin had ripped away a large chunk of his soul when he showed Dimmock exactly what he was. Gregory had come to like the idea of someone, even if just one person who saw him other than a dirty whore – he was somewhat normal, somewhat lovable in that young man's eyes. And it had meant something to him. With that gone, there was an angry, black hole, a darkness that was spreading through him in a rapid pace. At that moment, he had wanted to hurt, to make someone, anyone pay for every humiliation and pain he had gone through. It was true; he could have stopped when Kevin was no longer a threat to his safety. But he didn't. Because he had enjoyed the older man's cries of pain, and how his curses eventually became plead for mercy, as he begged on and on for his life.

Donavan even gave him time to think. To prove her sincerity, she returned with an offer from the Chief Crown Prosecutor – 20 years imprisonment for voluntary manslaughter. Apparently everyone wanted to the _scandal__swept_under the rug as quick as possible. They would do anything to avoid a length trail with media exposure.

Gregory supposed it had been fairly generous, and the best he was ever going to get.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Pristinely pressed shirt and pants made with expensive material, they were perfect to hide bruises, wounds, bandages, and anything else that was not pleasing to the eyes. Gregory was also given a shave, along with some other cleanups. He looked at himself in the mirror, and recognised exactly what he was - a refurbishment that was ready to go back to market.

It had been 5 days since he signed his own confession and accepted the deal he had been offered. He was expected to be transferred from his holding cell the next morning. Instead, merely hours later he was back in the interrogation room.

Sergeant Donovan made him sign another pile of paperwork, before thanking him for his corporation in their investigation into Chief Superintendent Kevin Campbell's death. Not only his confession had been completed rewritten for him, the cause of death had been also been re-determined as heart failure. In paper, his only involvement was being present the scene, and called emergency service in an attempt to save the man's life.

Her smile was polite and very much forced. Gregory could read her like an opened book, including her barely concealed anger, and burning indignation.

Gregory knew he should have felt guilt, shame, or even fear, yet he didn't. Even the silent, judgemental stares that he received as he walked out of the station didn't bother him. Everything happened so fast that it still feeling too surreal to him.

A distinctive familiar black sedan was waiting for him outside. Everything finally made sense now – it had been the work of Mycroft Holmes, the man powerful enough to turn black to white on a whim.

A young Alpha, in his mid 30s opened the door for him, and politely asked him to get in. He introduced himself as Adam, the new PA to Mycroft Holmes, and he had been instructed to take Gregory to a hospital for a complete check up. There was a brief flash of fear in those dark brown irises, when their eyes met. It would have been amusing to Gregory, if not for his sense of reality that had finally come back to him with crushing force.

For the next 5 days, Gregory was examined within every inch of his body in a private facility. He had been treated for concussion, fractured ribs, amongst other injuries. Despite supply him with sedatives there wasn't much the doctors could do about the nightmares that kept replaying in his head every night. There was nothing that could stop his memories from resurfacing again and again - flashback of what he was capable of doing.

For year, he had been told he was creature that needed to tamed, to be restraint with firm hands. Despite what he had tried to deny for his whole life, they had been right. Partially right, anyway. He didn't think violence was quite what they had in mind. But at that moment he had been completely overtaken by the thrill of power, the sense of control, and the knowledge that he was free to do whatever his heart desired. Those impulses urged him to go on, to indulge, consequences be damned. And he did exactly that.

He woke up night after night after replying that particular part of his memory, with adrenaline rushing through his veins. His body was covered in cold sweet. His hands shook so hardly that he could barely hold a glass of water to sooth his burning throat. And yet, he could almost savour them in his mouth every single time – the sweet taste of revenge, the thrill of power, and the knowledge of what exactly he was capable of.

When they deemed him being ready, he was taken to an upper class restaurant. The entire premises had cleared. There were no staffs let along other patrons. There were nothing else, except for Mycroft Holmes, and a candle lit dinner.

Gregory took a seat, and the older Holmes poured wine for him. The politician apologized for the plain set up, said he wanted a private place that they could talk. And for the next hour or so they did exactly that – light conversation about weather, their mutual acquaintance, and everything else that hardly mattered.

Gregory didn't pay much attention to the food. Everything tasted like piece of cardboard to him. He couldn't help but reminded himself that this was the man who had done him an incredibly big favour, an act of kindness that he had no means or resources to repay. He was an ex-copper without any asset or connection. The only money he had in his bank account had in fact came from the other man. He was nothing but a broken toy, an overused whore… his hand instinctively tightened on the wine glass, as his mind drifted to darker thoughts, until it shattered into pieces.

The younger man was by his side within seconds. And Gregory, in his moment of panic, slapped away the hand that reached out to him. His instinctively wanted to get away. It was the hurt in those grey eyes that stopped him in his track.

"Why?" Gregory asked. Why would someone like Mycroft Holmes be bothered with him? What exactly did he want with him? Why did he look at him like that, like he actually meant something to him? He had so many questions, and yet, he had no idea how to voice any of them.

"Gregory, please, just let me see your hand." The younger man said. With his gentle tone, and his concerned look, it was almost like he actually cared. Yet the hand he had on him was firm, and authoritative. It was clear that he wasn't going to let go until he got his way.

Without much choice, Gregory complied. The politician texted on his phone, a moment later a first aid box was brought in. The Omega watched as the older Holmes removed the embedded glass shards from his right hand, before bandaging it up. The movements had been precise, yet incredibly gentle. It was almost like he meant the world to that powerful man.

"You do matter to me, Gregory." As if reading his mind, the politician confirmed while looking straight into his eyes, "I will do anything to make you happy."

Gregory laughed humourlessly. He had heard that line before, plenty of times in fact, from men who still had some use for him.

He had no doubt that Mycroft Holmes was telling the truth, even if he couldn't understand why. He was too old, too used, too unattractive to gain such attention. Still, he wasn't above to use it to his own advantage.

"Then, I want my life back."

"Anything you want, Gregory." The politician promised.

Gregory laughed again, a little hysterically. When the Alpha leaned in to kiss him, he put up no resistance. He closed his own eyes. It should have felt nice. Yet, all he could feel was the growing sense of guilt.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

That night, Gregory made sure he undressed within sight of Mycroft Holmes.

He let himself be fully exposed under the bedroom light, so there was no way the younger man could miss anything – concealer had been wiped from his face, revealing the contusions resulted from being slammed against a wall; bruises on his wrists, arms, and around his knees due to being bounded for hours; whip marks on his back and buttocks, some of which had faded, while others still stung; and cigarette burn marks that had been ruthlessly left on his thigh because he had a pleasing voice when he screamed…

He had accumulated them over the years. Some of them had faded to nearly nothing, some lingered stubbornly, and others were still fresh. He had been marred by countless man, and subjected to their urges and desires. He knew what he looked like. And for a Holmes, it was definitely enough to deduce his entire life.

The whole time, he made sure he held the politician's gaze, firmly ignoring his own sense of shame that threatened to drown him. He had to be sure that the younger man saw everything, or what was left of him. It was only fair.

There was cold fury in the eye that he stared right into, intense enough to set air on fire. Gregory flinched. Mycroft wasn't someone to be enraged, if you treasured your life. So the politician had already regretted his decision. All his time, money and resources wasted for a broken toy. The politician had every reason to be angry.

He had expected to be told the deal was off. He thought he was going to be sent away. Instead he found himself being gently place on bed with soft murmurs of "you are still beautiful".

Gregory had almost laughed, in disbelief. Almost, if it wasn't for the lips that pried him open, and muffled him. Mycroft tasted of expensive wine and posh cigarette, and everything that screamed taste and class. He couldn't help but wonder why a man who had the whole world on his finger tips would bother with someone like him. Surely, he must have better choices for whatever he had in mind.

Not that it mattered. He had been paid to perform, to please, not to ask questions. So he reached for the Alphas' belt instead. He only had a chance to get to the buckle, before his hands was prised off.

"No Gregory, I want it to be all about you tonight." Mycroft gently said, seeing the confusion that was written all over his face.

Gregory swallowed hard, just assumed the other man meant to get every penny's worth out of him. His body tensed up as he wondered what kind of game the younger Alpha had in mind for him - what type of toys were planned to be used; did he enjoy eliciting pain or was he more into humiliation; was he going to deny him of an orgasm until he screamed his voice raw…

Instead, he found strong hands enclosed around his penis, gently encouraging it to hardness. In mere minutes he found himself coming hard in that warm palm. He was becoming even more confused.

"I won't hurt you, please trust me."

And in his post orgasmic bliss, the politician had no trouble reduce the walls Gregory had built up to crumbles. The Omega inevitably found himself relaxing underneath the Alpha, as soft kissed trailed from his forehead to the tip of his toes, no inch of him was neglected in the gentle exploration, including every scar and every bruise.

He had tried to reciprocate again. He attempted to sit up and undress his partner. Yet, he was pushed back down to bed again by those gentle hands. He didn't get it, he just didn't. But it didn't matter for long. As soon as his own cock was engulfed in tight, wet heat and everything ceased to matter. His entire world dissolved into foreign sensations and insane pleasure. No one had ever… ever… his coherence was quickly reduced threads, as he moaned helplessly. His body arched off the bed. His hand instinctively buried in those ginger strands of hair, grabbing onto them hard, driven by the uncontrollable urge to be close, to get more…

When he had finally come back to his sense, panting hard, he was horrified to find Mycroft cleaning off his semen from his face. He was completed stunned.

"It's OK. I wanted to do this for you." As if reading his growing state of panic, the politician said. His voice was still hoarse from giving that blow job. Those icy grey eyes were a little moist around the corners. It was apparent that the man had very little practice at giving pleasure, given he was usually on the receiving end. It could not have been pleasant while chocking on a cock. Gregory had more than enough experience to know for sure. Yet those same eyes looked at him with adoration and something akin to love.

Gregory was under no illusion. He wasn't the intent recipient of these acts of kindness. He remembered the times that the politician seemed to be looking at him, yet looking through him, being buried deep in his own memories of sadness, regret and guilt.

He couldn't help but wondered what had happened all those years ago, what could have taken place that had affected the Ice Man so deeply.

No, he firmly told himself, putting a stop on his strand of thoughts. It wasn't his place at all. After all, he was merely substitute, a toy. Nothing more.

AN: A little comfort sex for our beloved DI. Our poor Gregory probably had some worst sex in the history of Omega verse, so I want to make it up to him for a little bit. Many thanks for all these lovely comments/ reviews. I do apologies for not replying to most of them, I'm terrible at doing so. But I do treasure every one of them.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Later, when Gregory had finally given into exhaustion, Mycroft was still widely awake. He found his own fingers threading through the Omega's hair; his own hand attempting to soothe away every sign of worry, fear and exhaustion from that lovely face. He held onto that frail body, despite the instinctive struggle that the Omega had put up, clearly not used to be simply being held. Eventually, the ex-copper settled down, gave into the embrace, the body heat and the gentle caresses.

He had wanted the Omega for so long; way before he knew what the dull ache in his heart had meant. How could he not - the perpetually worn out look on that beautiful face, yet those chocolate brown eyes were anything but dull and lifeless. They were fierce and sharp at times, stubborn and defiant at others. He was such a beautiful contradiction. Scarred and haunted, yet with plenty of fight – so desperate to find a purpose, to find a reason to exist, to be more than what society had deemed him to be.

Mycroft could still vividly remember how he had met the man face to face for the first time. In the holding cell, his brother was going through one of his withdraws. He had purposely delayed the bail, in a vain hope that it would teach a lesson to his rebellious brother. He never expected a newly promoted DI staying with Sherlock through the nausea, the quivering, as well as the endless curses and pleads.

Sherlock was at his worst, he didn't hesitate in spewing out every dirty secret of the copper – things that would no doubt made the man subject of gossips for weeks to come, just to get a fix. And yet strangely, Gregory never left. He was there the whole time, holding onto his hands as Sherlock slowly regained his bodily function and senses.

Mycroft watched for a long time, being completely mesmerised with every gentle touch, every smoothing word – things he had once been given years and years ago. He was so young back then, so powerless and weak. He was forced to let go of the most important person in his life. He wasn't going to allow it to happen again. Never again.

Despite his stubbornness, Gregory had eventually come to him for help. Mycroft thought what he had always wanted was finally within his reach. And yet, he found himself came face to face with those lifeless eyes, so dark with guilt and desperation. There was the sudden realisation that he was nothing but another Alpha who had taken advantage of him, exploited his vulnerability and need. Ironically, it had taken him to commit the same mistake again and again to realise he was only capable of nothing but causing the man he had come to care for hurt and humiliation.

Mycroft could no longer face this harsh truth, so he asked Anthea to take the Omega away, to ensure he had everything needed for a comfortable life, in addition to looking for an alternative arrangement in the Yard for Sherlock's indulgence. He took one and half month long business trip to a few countries, hoping the distance would lessen his longing. It was until his return he had found out Anthea, in her usual highly efficient way of dealing with matters, had turned the Omega into the bribe for paving the way into the Yard.

He had trusted her, always had. She was the third assistant he had hired, and the only one he had kept. Ambitious, and yet meticulous, determined and charismatic, they had been so much alike. He had never found the need to question her ability or method, until that day. It was never deemed necessary, because she was the one he could trust his life with.

Before he had her taken away, she called him getting weak and sentimental. And Mycroft didn't deny any of it. After all, it was sentiment that stopped him from turning her into another Jane Doe being drowned in the Thames.

It had taken considerable amount of persuasion, influence and power to get Gregory's murder charge dropped so quickly, but it had been worth it. He knew he might never get what he truly wanted, but he would take whatever he could have. For now, he was content with having Gregory right beside him.

At least, that was what he had managed to convince himself.

AN: A quick updated from Mycroft's POV. Hopefully it will fill some of the blanks in the previous chapters.

Also a quick response to an anonymous review being left here: this fic does not portray consensual D/S relationships. Despite what Gregory had managed to convince himself, he had very little choice in those arrangements. He was in denial in attempt to preserve his own sanity and pride. A similar example would be for some domestic violence victims to believe they are being hurt/ deserve to be hurt because they are being loved. It is human's defence mechanism at work, helping him to cope with day to day survival. On the other hand, I do apologise if this fic makes anyone uncomfortable, but there are non-con/ dub-con warnings at the beginning of the fic.


End file.
